


Gift Giving

by DevilishKurumi



Series: Midlife Crisis [7]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bondage, Humanstuck, M/M, Multi, Threesome, Twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 11:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevilishKurumi/pseuds/DevilishKurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave redeems his Christmas present coupon from Sollux and brings restraints into the equation, while Sollux has a couple minor anxiety attacks and fails to notice the most blindingly obvious signals ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift Giving

**Author's Note:**

> this particular mlc installment is coming to you in two chapters instead of one, because i've been sitting on this since january and you guys deserve more frequent updates than this. :) 2nd chapter will come out when i can write that shit.

            Dave tells you he wants to redeem his Christmas coupon a week and a half into the new year, and you're honestly impressed that he waited this long to pull that card on you.  You wonder if he knows that you really do feel a little guilty for copping out on a gift for him and his brother, or if he knows that you'd been considering buying him something to replace the shitty I.O.U. - maybe why he's decided to cash it in.  Or maybe he's just finally found a fluffy princess gown in your size.  You really fucking hope it's not that.

            The fact that he doesn't tell you right off the bat what he wants makes you really consider the princess gown angle, and you use the drive over to the twins' apartment building to imagine up an impressive, caustic retort to get yourself out of that potential mess.  You draw the line at princess gowns.  ...You _hope_ you draw the line there, at least.  The line you had, the one you used to know so well, is a lot fuzzier nowadays than it used to be.

            You find the visitor spaces in the parking lot and wander up the sidewalk to the building, remembering the last time you were here, when Dave and Dirk had brought you back from the diner.  You try not to think too hard about how they'd had you pinned in the elevator as you ride it up to their floor.

            Dave answers the door almost right after you knock, and you grin at him as he all but drags you inside.  "Somebody's overeager," you say, and he scoffs.

            "You don't know what you're talking about," he says, kicking the door shut behind you.

            "You know I'm not going to buy that," you reply, and let him take your hand to drag you towards the sofa.  Dirk is laying haphazardly on the cushions, using pillows to prop himself up so that he can play what looks to be the worst skateboarding game in history.  You don't bother asking why he's playing such a shitty game; instead, you turn to Dave and ask, "So what did you need me to come over for?"

            "Sex, predictably," Dirk drawls from his spot, sending his skateboarder flying into the air.  Dave sticks his tongue out at his brother, but he doesn't exactly leap to defend himself.  You kind of figured all that from the get-go.

            "Color me shocked," you say dryly, and Dave huffs momentarily at you before he pulls you close.  Dirk curls up and suddenly you find yourself being pushed down onto the newly unoccupied space on the sofa, Dave following you down, climbing on top of you and pressing your shoulders into the cushion with his hands.  You close your eyes before he even leans in, and when his mouth mashes against yours, you respond with more control than him.  Dave's tongue presses against your chapped lips and you open your mouth for him before you even think about it, sucking on his tongue and drawing a moan from his throat, one that travels through your mouth and down your spine.

            He pulls back after only a moment, leaving you gasping for air despite all your attempts to be in control of yourself, and he says, "So, about my Christmas present."  His hand moves from your right shoulder to your hair, rubbing the close cropped hair at the nape of your neck.  You try to fight against closing your eyes again.  "I was wonderin' how you'd feel about a little bondage."

            You stare at him.

            "Huh?"

            It's the least intelligent thing you could possibly say in this moment, but Dave doesn't laugh at you.  He grins, sure, but he doesn't really mock you, which you guess you appreciate.  "I told you, didn't I?  I'm gonna have to tie you down to get you to make some of those noises again."

            "I don't... think you worded it like that," you somehow manage to say, glancing across at Dirk, who's still playing his game.  You feel a little embarrassed that this conversation is happening right here, right now, but you don't know why.  You've been with Dirk just as much as Dave, practically, and you have a feeling that Dirk's been in on this conversation since before you even arrived, so being even slightly mortified about this situation is downright stupid.

            "We'd go slow," Dirk says, bringing himself into the conversation.  You realize your embarrassment isn't so much because of Dirk's nonchalance; it's more because you don't know how comfortable you are even considering this.  Your mind is racing with all the visual connotations the word _bondage_ brings to mind, and most of it never struck you as something you'd be interested in.  "No need to rush into anything."

            "Just tying up your hands," Dave adds, "You know, to start."

            Your stomach twists with anxiety, and you shift ineffectually under Dave.  He's still looking at you - you realize now that he and Dirk have left their shades off today, and you wonder if that's because they don't actually wear them everywhere, or if they're trying to make themselves less separated from the situation.  Maybe to make you feel better about their idea.

            "Unless you're not comfortable with it," Dirk says, and you think you must have a pretty awful expression on your face, because he looks a little concerned.  Dave doesn't, though.  You appreciate the fact that he doesn't react to your facial expressions, especially when you probably look like a moron.

            "No, it's not... that I'm _un_ comfortable," you say haltingly, "I'm just... you know."

            "Vanilla," Dave says, and he sounds a little derisive.  "Yeah, you keep mentioning that bullshit like it's true."

            "Well, it's not _wrong_ ," you point out.

            "You have pretty consistent threesomes, dude," Dirk replies, raising an eyebrow, "With the lights on and never in missionary position.  I think you've qualified out of the lightweight division."

            You bite your lip and yeah, okay, that's a good point, but it doesn't do much to ease the anxiousness coiling in your gut.  It's not as though they're talking about latex bodysuits and sex swings, though, so you push yourself to try and respond instead of letting your general anxiousness get in the way.  "Well, _before_ that, I was always really tame, so you have to give me a second here."

            "Fair enough," Dirk says, but Dave doesn't seem as willing to let things go so easily.  He leans in and pulls at the bottom hem of your shirt, and you swear to god he's fucking pouting.

            "Oh my god, don't give me that," you groan, dropping your head back against the sofa.  Your back suddenly tenses as Dave's mouth finds the hollow of your throat, the tip of his tongue tracing the dip before he sucks at the skin just below your Adam's apple.

            "That's playing dirty," Dirk says, sounding more amused than he probably means to let on, and you try not to make any embarrassing noises as you push Dave away by the shoulders.

            "You're really bent on this," you say, and Dave rolls his eyes with more exaggeration than you really think is necessary in a situation like this.

            "I'm pretty fuckin' keen on the idea, yeah," he agrees, "So what's the holdup?"

            "I don't know," you admit with some reluctance, ducking his gaze.  "I'm - I don't know."  You need to stop over-thinking things.  You keep telling yourself that, so now's the time to act.  You push Dave away when he leans in again and sigh exasperatedly to hide the way you trip over your words.  "Fine, okay, it's your Christmas present."

            Dave blinks a few times, his awful poker face rendered even more terrible without his shades.  "Seriously?"

            "Yeah, seriously.  If you want to waste it tying me to a bedpost or whatever, I can't really stop you."

            Dave fucking _beams_ at you, and your anxious guts twist a little more.  " _Hell_ yes," he says, and then he kisses you, pushing his hands through your hair until he can pull you closer, sucking briefly on your lower lip and leaving you struggling to keep up with his enthusiasm.  Dirk is moving around next to you.  You can feel him get up, but you don't think anything of it because Dave has all of your attention.  You run your hands down his back, pressing your fingertips against his spine, sliding them out along his waist, down to his hips.  You can feel his muscles twitching under your hands, and then Dave makes the quietest sound, a hitching gasp for breath that ends close to a moan, and you don't even think about it when he shifts his weight and encourages you to lie down across the couch, so long as your hands are on him and he's pressed against you.

            "Are you going to let him breathe for a second?" Dirk asks from behind the couch, and Dave reluctantly pulls his mouth from yours, sitting up and putting his hands on your chest.  You try to fight off your dazed stupor, looking up at Dirk through cockeyed glasses; he meets your gaze with an amused look, his hands working with the buckles on a leather strap attached to another one with a large snap clip.  The anxiety that you'd momentarily forgotten in favor of making out comes back, making you shudder under Dave.  Dirk doesn't have to look at the restraint to undo it.

            "You, uh."  You clear your throat and try not to sound so unsure when you speak up again, "You're probably going to have to step-by-step me, here, you guys."

            "It's not really much to worry about," Dirk says.  "I'm going to put these on your wrists and secure them down, and then you let Dave do his thing.  Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it pretty easily."

            Dave runs his hands along your chest, up to your shoulders, and you try to keep from shaking with nerves.  "Just a heads up, though - if you're down, I kind of want to keep you here for a while."

            "You mean on the couch?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.  "Because no offense to IKEA or whatever, but this shit isn't going to do anything for my back."

            "Maybe not on the couch.  But, if you don't have anything to do tonight, maybe you could stay."

            Dirk glances from you to Dave, then back to the cuffs in his hands, and you frown at Dave.  "Are you trying to ask me to stay for a bondage sleepover right now?"

            "Pretty much."

            You roll your eyes and chuckle, reaching up to card your fingers through Dave's hair, pulling him down so you can kiss him.  "You guys have weird ideas about what passes for normal invitations, you know that?"

            "Yep," Dirk says.  "You might want to take off your shirt.  Not exactly easy to pull it off when your wrists are cuffed."  Dave sits back and you use the extra space to fumble your way out of your tee.  You drop it over the back of the sofa, and Dave's hands move appreciatively up your stomach, his fingertips tracing the dip where your ribcage sticks up a little.  Dirk reaches out and grabs one of your hands, and you let him move your arm back to rest on the arm of the sofa.  "You should get comfortable," Dirk adds, and you swallow around the lump in your throat and shift and slide until your neck isn't at such a sharp angle.  Dave is watching Dirk; you tilt your head back enough to watch him fix the strap around your wrist.  The leather is lined with soft, furry kind of fabric, a little threadbare in places.  Your chest tightens a little at the thought of the twins using these often enough to wear the lining down.

            "So much for being hesitant," Dave says from above you, and his hips press down against yours.  You can feel how hard he is even through his jeans, his dick pressing against your pelvis, and you reach out with your free hand to grab him by the back of his head and pull him down for another hot kiss.

            "No more of that," Dirk says, and he pulls your hand away from Dave, who doesn't seem to notice as his tongue sloppily slides between your parted lips.  You can feel the other restraint wrap around your wrist; then, there's the click of a snap, and Dirk steps away.  You give the restraints a testing tug, but whatever they're connected to goes taut with only an inch or two of give.  Dave is smirking when he pulls away from the kiss, looking triumphant and eager, but his hands stay above the waistband.  He's more interested in running them over your chest and stomach than he is in getting in your pants.  Dirk pulls a few pillows from under the sofa and makes a pile on the ground, lying down with his back against the sofa and picking up the controller again.  You wonder if he was just here for the encouragement, and if he's checked out of this situation otherwise.

            Dave kisses you again, quick and hard, and you pull on his lower lip with your teeth when he pulls away.  Your hands pull at the restraints when he reaches for your face, fighting to grab him or maybe push him away, and he grins at you, gripping your hair and forcing you to tilt your head back.  Dirk swears under his breath as his character falls off the skateboard mid-flight, and you gasp as Dave licks a long stripe from the hollow of your throat to the base of your jaw.

            "I'm gonna have so much fun with you," Dave says, his lips pressed against your chin.  "God, I'm gonna fuckin' love this."

            You roll your hips under him.  "Are you going to get around to actually _unwrapping_ this stupid present of yours, or are you just going to shake it a lot and guess what it is?"

            Dirk snorts, and Dave laughs a little against your skin.  He sounds impressed when he speaks.  You aren't as mouthy as you used to be, so you're impressed with yourself too.  "When I'm damned well ready," he says, "Don't rush me."

            His mouth follows his tongue's path backwards, kissing the bump of your throat, the hollow, then your collarbone; he sucks on the skin, and even with your head forcibly tilted backwards so you can't see, you know he's leaving a dark, splotchy bruise.  His fingers massage your scalp even as he tugs on your hair, and when he scrapes his teeth against your chest, sucking briefly on one of your nipples, you arch your back and suck in a sharp breath.  His knee slips between your legs.  You try to hook an ankle around his calf, but he pushes you off with his foot.  "Keep that up, and I'm gonna get some more cuffs."

            You don't know if that's supposed to be a threat or not, but you don't have time to think about it, because Dave's free hand is pressing between the two of you, his palm rubbing the heavy outline of your dick through your jeans.  You groan and twist your arms a little, feeling weird because you should be reciprocating or something, and Dave grins against your chest.  Finally, he lets go of your hair, and you crane your neck to watch him as he kisses a wet, hot trail down your stomach.  When he reaches your jeans, he looks up and locks eyes with you as he uses his teeth to tug the fabric way from the button.  You gnaw on your lip and yank at the restraints.  You wish you could grab him.  He grins at you and you know he knows what you want, and you kind of passively hate him for not just giving up with this bullshit.

            Dave doesn't use his teeth to pull down your zipper; you force yourself not to kick him when he slides off of you completely so that he can kneel on the floor, Dirk's legs shifting out of his way, his fingers lightly grazing the metal teeth before finding the tab and pulling.  You wince away when you think that the teeth might catch on your underwear (or something even worse) but it's all instinct. 

            It's instinct that makes you cringe a bit as Dave pulls at the waistbands of your pants and underwear, too; you might have been taught not to argue the age difference, but there's still something embarrassing about being naked while the twins are fully dressed.  You don't say anything about it, though; the last thing you need is for Dave to get on your case for another one of your insecurities when you are literally powerless to escape the situation.

            You're yanked out of your thoughts as Dave's tongue swipes across your hipbone, your knees bending up as you squirm.  His hand comes up and pushes at your legs, forcing them back down, then pulls at your right leg until you're forced to let it dangle over the side of the couch.  Your foot brushes Dirk's, but he doesn't even look your way.

            "Yeah, just stay like that," Dave murmurs, and you gnaw on your lip and look away.  Dave chuckles and kisses your thigh.  "You're turning so fucking red, man."

            "Shut up," you grind out.

            "I like it," he continues, and you roll your eyes at him even though it means revealing how red your face has gotten.  You almost pull your leg up, but restrain yourself at the last moment.  Dave would probably have a field day correcting you for something like that.

            His hand slides up your thigh as he kneels next to you, his fingers wrapping around your cock, his hand pumping slowly, just once,.  You close your eyes and let your head drop back against the couch arm, swearing under your breath when Dave moves away once again.  You don't open your eyes right away, but when you do, you're surprised to find that Dave's abandoned you on the couch.

            "Where the fuck did he go," you ask, your voice so flat you doubt it even sounds like a question at all.

            "He'll be back," Dirk replies.  He pauses the game, leaving his character hovering in mid-air, and then turns at the waist to look at you.  You chew on your lip and look away.  You can feel Dirk's hand hover above your waist, warmth radiating from him, and when he touches your skin you dig your toes into the carpet.  "I can see what Dave was talking about," he continues.  You don't know what exactly Dave said, but you don't think you want to know.  "I'd probably pay to have you lie around like this all the time.  Too bad I don't have the income."

            You choke on a laugh, your breath hitching as Dirk's fingers trace along your hip to your cock, running along the base and not directly touching you.  It's kind of maddening.  "Yeah, right."

            "Seriously.  Always wanted some living furniture."  You can feel Dirk's breath on your skin; when you open your eyes and look around, you see him sitting on his knees by your hips, leaning over your dick.  You wonder if he's going to blow you.  You really fucking hope he does.  "Guess you'd be too embarrassed though."

            "Huh?" you ask, afraid you'd missed something.  You can see the corner of Dirk's mouth lift, and he sighs against your skin, looking up at you.

            "To be paid to lie around naked and tied up all day.  Not that I get why.  You're pretty hot, Sollux."

            You laugh again, a raspy little chuckle, and Dirk's mouth opens just slightly.  "You keep saying that," you mutter.

            "Must be because it's true.  You expecting me to use my mouth on you?  You're twitching like that's what you expect."

            "I wouldn't mind it."

            He leans back and you force yourself not to close your eyes.  "Not what Dave has in mind, sorry."

            "What _does_ he have in mind?"

            Dirk smiles and shrugs.  "No idea."

            "It doesn't involve Dirk getting his mitts on you," Dave drawls as he moves around the couch.  He has a tube of lubricant in his hand.  Dirk shrugs his shoulders and settles back down into his pillows, except instead of watching the screen, his attention is now solely focused on you and Dave.  "Got player two in?"

            "Yeah, we're good."

            You don't know what the fuck that means, but as Dave settles on the edge of the couch between your splayed legs, you could really care less.  Dave looks at you for a second.  "How bad is your hip?"

            "What did I say about age jokes?" you retort with a grimace.  Dave grins.

            "Put your other leg over the back of the couch, then.  Spread 'em."

            You chew on your lip and stare at Dave for a moment, wondering if he's being serious.  He matches your gaze, and then finally pushes your leg with his elbow.  _Shit_ , you think, and then you bite your lip and lift your left leg to hook over the back of the couch.  Your hips twist as you try to find some kind of modest way of doing this, but there's nothing to do but close your eyes.  At least the back of the couch isn't that high.

            "God," Dave murmurs, and you feel his hand stroke your inner thigh.  You swallow thickly.  "Yeah, this is definitely gettin' how I want it.  You relaxed, Sollux?"

            "No," you reply, voice tight, "Not even slightly."

            Dave pulls his hand away and you open your eyes, worried that he's about to leave again.  He isn't leaving, though; he's uncapping the lube, squeezing some out onto his fingers.  You squirm and dig your toes into the carpet where you can.  Dirk is still watching, even as Dave presses a finger against your hole.  You twist against the restraints and try not to hiss.

            "You're okay," Dave says, and you believe him, but you still feel overexposed and way too vulnerable.  You try to calm down; Dirk helps by leaning up to trail kisses along your neck as Dave pumps his finger in and out, going slower than you know he wants to.  You groan and force yourself to relax, even if it's only a little.  Dave makes a low, pleased sound, one that goes right to your dick, and you groan appreciatively when he slips a second finger into you.

            "You ever think about the first time we hooked up?" Dave asks, and you can't help but laugh breathlessly.  As if that were even a fucking question.  Dave sounds amused when he speaks again.  "Thought so.  Either way, you know.  I could've made you come just with my fingers."

            He curls his fingers and you take in a deep breath.  "Dave," you murmur.

            "I think that's what I wanna do right now."

            "Dave, _please_ ," you say, feeling him uncurl inside you, his hand moving back until he can incorporate a third finger.  Dirk is sitting back again; you guess he must think you've got this.

            "Do I have you for the whole night?" Dave asks, and you can feel yourself nodding before you can even think about whether or not you have anything to do tomorrow morning.

            "Fuck, yes, okay."

            "I never got a clear answer," Dave continues, like he didn't even hear you, "So I just want to make sure that you're not going to bail as soon as this round is over."

            "No, I won't," you groan.  "I couldn't, anyway, Dave, _please_."

            Dave's fingers curl and he slides them out until they press against your prostate.  You yelp and buck your hips, and when you look at him, Dave has his eyes on what he's doing, not on your face.  You groan and turn your head into the couch cushion; when his fingers brush against you again, you gasp out, " _Dave_!"

            "Still not really loud, though," Dave mutters, and then he starts pumping his fingers into you slowly but firmly, curling and searching with every move, his efforts earning hoarse gasps and yelps from your throat as you try to catch your breath.  Oh, fuck, he wasn't kidding.  You're going to come like this.

            Dave pulls his fingers out of you and you moan, rolling your hips up, trying to find him again.  You turn your head to find him and Dirk concentrating on the television.

            "Oh my fucking god," you grind out, "Don't you _dare_ pick up a fucking controller, Strider-"

            "Which one of us is 'Strider' in this situation?" Dirk asks, and he hands Dave a controller.

            "Fuck you both," you groan.  God, you were so fucking _close_.  Even now, your muscles are twitching, your hips shifting uncomfortably.  You almost drop your foot from the back of the couch, then think better of it.

            Dave's character flies through the air, bouncing off one of the skyscrapers like a demented game of Pong.  He seems to be entirely ignoring you.  You'd believe it better if you couldn't see how hard he is through his jeans.

            "Maybe if you ask nicely," Dirk says thoughtfully, after the longest minute of your life.

            You tilt your head at Dave, who glances at you briefly before shrugging his shoulders.

            "Couldn't hurt."

            You're completely mortified by this situation.  You never should have let them talk you into this.  You twist the restraints and squeeze the back of the couch with your leg and try not to start humping the fucking air.

            "Dave, _please_ ," you say, trying not to sound too sarcastic.  "Seriously."

            "Theriouthly," Dave mimics.  You want to kick him, but then he reaches out his hand and rests it on your inner thigh, playing one-handed.  "What are you asking for, here?"

            "Being pretty vague," Dirk adds.

            You groan and rock your hips and say, "Dave, please just - _fuck_ me already, god damn it."

            Dave grins and runs the side of his hand along the cleft of your ass, his fingertips pressing against you and making you groan.

            "How am I gonna fuck you, exactly?" he asks, and you can tell he knows he's pushing it from the way he turns to face you.

            You clench your eyes shut and feel like you're so red you'll pop, but when he strokes his fingers against the puckered skin you finally murmur, "Use your fingers if that's what you really want."

            "Could've just said so from the start," Dave drawls, and you try really hard not to groan in irritation.  You open your eyes when you feel Dave shift, and then he's kneeling with one knee on the couch, a hand braced on the cushion next to your waist, the other pressing into you, all three fingers sliding in to the second knuckle, then further, and you groan and rock your hips up against his hand.  "Jesus, that was so worth it," he says, and you don't have any clever retort because he's fucking you again, his fingers crooked and pressing against every sensitive part inside of you.  You hear yourself moan, and you focus your line of sight on Dave, who's watching his own movements as though he's mesmerized.

            You don't know what to do with yourself.  You want to cover your face or bite your arm or maybe grab Dave and get him to wrap his mouth around your dick while he fingerfucks you, but every yank at the restraints on your wrists just make Dave grin a little wider, and all you can really do is writhe and arch your back and beg in breathless little bursts.  "Please," you say, " _Please_ , oh god-!"  Dave raises his free hand, balanced back on his knees, and traces his fingertips across your stomach, down to your dick, wrapping around the base like a ring.  He squeezes just a little and you groan, pushing your head back as far as you can with the armrest in the way, biting your lip hard.  Every muscle in you flinches when Dave runs his hand along your dick, not even gripping it, only just barely brushing against it, and you're too distracted to be ashamed by the yelp that escapes you as you buck your hips against the couch and come harder than you have in a while.

            Dave stares down at you with a self-satisfied look on his face, one that makes you sort of want to kick him.  You manage to refrain until he says, "Could be louder," which you take as your cue to achingly unhook your leg from the back of the couch and push his face away with your foot.  "Dude, gross, get your foot off me!"

            "You deserve it," you grumble, unable to actually be annoyed right now.  You aren't really capable of anything beyond being content.  "My wrists hurt."

            "Yeah, that's because you kept tugging," Dave replies, and he climbs off you, disappearing only momentarily before returning with a damp paper towel.  Dirk is back to his game, and you wonder how long it took before he looked away.

            As Dave runs the paper towel up your stomach, cleaning you off, you start to remember that you're the only one naked here, and you're still bound.  Your embarrassment kicks in all over again, making you close your eyes again, pressing your face into the back of the couch.

            "I think he'd like his pants back," Dirk drawls, and you groan and almost kick out at him before remembering that you're naked and you really don't want to do that.

            "Jeeze, okay," Dave says.  "Hold on a second."  You feel him moving around, heat radiating from him as he leans over you and undoes the cuffs, leaning back when you move to sit up.  "Might as well let you be free range for a while before I lasso you again."

            "That was really fucking Texan," you say, sitting up enough to grab your underwear.  Dave waits until you pull them on before he sits down on the couch again, and you decide that you don't really need your pants or shirt.

            "Welcome to the rodeo, motherfucker," Dirk says, and you roll your eyes as you sit up.  You decide to make yourself comfortable while you're at it, putting your feet up on Dave as you roll onto your side to watch Dirk fail miserably at his game.  You think that's the point though, so technically he's succeeding?  You don't understand, to be honest.

            "So, you guys hungry?" Dave asks, "Because I'm fuckin' starving."

            "I'm not moving," you respond.

            "But I need to get up to get the Bagel Bites, dude, you can't just pin me here until I starve to death."

            "Watch me."

            Dave pushes your legs off of his as he stands, and you grudgingly let him go before taking up his place with your legs.  You sit and watch Dirk's game, trying to follow as best you can, while Dave wanders around the kitchen.  You can hear the microwave start humming.

            "This game is a piece of shit," you say.

            "Yeah, pretty much the worst," Dirk replies, sending his skateboard through his player's head.  "That's what makes it so fun."

            Dave sits on your legs when he comes back, holding a large paper plate full of molten hot pizza bites.  Dirk pauses the game only long enough to reach over and grab some food, shoving one into his mouth without a second thought.  You make a face.

            "Do you guys eat anything that isn't generically considered _fast_?"

            "Nope," Dave says, holding out the plate to you.  "Your legs are bony as hell, Jesus."

            "Shouldn't sit on them, then," you reply, reaching over to grab a pizza bite for yourself.  They're disgusting, but in the way almost all terrible food is.  It's only when you narrowly avoid getting hot pizza sauce on your chest that you realize you're still in your underwear, and it strikes you that this is one of those rare times where you've spent more than a few minutes awake with either Strider after sex.  It's like when you first met them; you'd engaged in casual conversation and it had felt like everything was almost normal.  It'd been nice then, and it's nice now.

            You grab another pizza bite as Dave cajoles Dirk into making his character fall off a skyscraper.  He jumps in such a way that instead of falling like dead weight, the character sort of floats like a slowly deflating balloon, and you think that maybe you can get the appeal of something so completely moronic.

            "I want to shoot whoever programmed this game in the foot to teach a lesson to the others," you say around a mouthful of bread.

            "Yeah, pretty sure that's the consensus on this pile of shit," Dirk says.  "Pass me another pizza thing."

            "Bagel Bite," Dave corrects, even as he drops one into Dirk's outstretched hand.  "It's pretty much the shittiest game ever made," he adds.

            "I'm getting that."

            The three of you end up spending almost forty minutes eating terrible food and berating the programmers of the most awful game in existence.  Dave winds up heating up a second plate of snacks, practically forcing you to eat three more of the pizza bites, using the last one as an excuse to run his fingers along your collarbone.  You roll your eyes but it's still nice.

            He kicks Dirk's leg lightly, and Dirk looks around before carefully navigating his character to a save spot.  You wonder what the point of saving is when the game is so glitched, but before you can ask, Dirk is shutting off the console and Dave is looking at you.

            "Hey," he says.

            You don't know what to say back, so you settle for, "Hey."

            Dave's lip curls in something between a smirk and a smile, and he raises an eyebrow at you.  For a second, you forget that you have full autonomy - you feel tied up all over again when he looks at you like that.

            "So," he says.  "How are you feeling about round two?"


End file.
